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Pow-Wow Oak Protector went out on a limb to save a tree

By Katie Lannan, klannan@lowellsun.com

Updated:
11/09/2012 10:43:43 AM EST

LOWELL -- Known as the Pow-Wow Oak, the centuries-old tree at 274 Clark Road in Lowell's Belvidere section was a ceremonial gathering place for the Wamesit Indians and the stepping-off point for area Revolutionary War militias on their route down to Concord and Lexington.

But it has a more personal history to many, said George Koumantzelis of the Pow-Wow Oak Protectors, an organization dedicated to honoring the tree's significance.

Koumantzelis said he regularly hears from people who recall playing hide-and-seek at the tree's base, taking school field trips there, or having their first kiss beneath the beloved local landmark. Spurred by those memories, he brought together a group of about a dozen core members -- later expanding to about 30 -- who worked to identify the tree as public property and ensure its safety.

As the group's organizer, Koumantzelis spearheaded the efforts. But he's quick to downplay his own role, focusing instead on the contributions of others involved, including arborist John Coppinger, City Councilor Rita Mercier and surveyor Dave Desmarais.

In September, the group's goal came to fruition, as members gathered for an official dedication of the Pow-Wow Oak Monument (built by Adrian Luz of Lowell's Luz Granite) and celebrated the Pow-Wow Oak Tree Preservation Covenant granted by the city.

Koumantzelis took time to explain why that matters for the tree and its neighbors, including him.

Q: What does the covenant mean for the Pow-Wow Oak?

A: It's protected forever, so even if the tree dies or needs to be cut down, we can plant acorns there and grow another tree.

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That monument and that sign will forever be protected by that covenant.

Q: What is the monument like?

A: It's 7 feet tall and weighs close to two tons. It has a beautiful plaque, very unique, one of a kind. He'd never done this before. This was a brand-new thing. They'd never done a black background. When you go up there and look at it, it's like a black page with white letters. It's like looking at the black, dark sky up in Maine with all the night stars, or like the beginning of Star Wars where you see the letters superimposed on the black background, flying.

Q: How did the Pow-Wow Oak Protectors come to be?

A: I came home from my dad's funeral in 2007, and I noticed that someone had put a fence around the Pow-Wow Oak when I took pictures of it to bring home as memories of Lowell. Then my mother fell ill in 2009, and I left my job in Maryland to come and look after her -- she's better now -- but I got involved in this quest to find out if the tree was on public or private land.

Q: So why was that fence a problem?

A: It was hurting the tree, plus the fence was making it look like it was (the resident's) private property, which it wasn't. The tree is on public land. For many years, the tree was in a natural state, but over the years, over the decades, various property owners have come and gone, and they've encroached on the tree.

Q: Where did the money come from for this project?

A: I walked through the neighborhood. It took me three months, but I walked all through 01852 (Belvidere's ZIP code) and all the way up into Tewksbury. I walked to every single house in the neighborhood, through the rain in the snow, and we raised a total of $4,600. The rest of the money, the next $1,400, was my own personal money that I contributed.

Q: What were the next steps after that?

A: We formed a nonprofit public charity, officially recognized as a neighborhood environmental group, so we could legally raise money. We had a concert and raised $700.

Q: What's so important about this tree that makes it worth all this effort?

A: It's the oldest living historical relic in the city of Lowell. It's older than the United States. It's the oldest primordial, archetypal, integral relic, and it's a living relic. It's alive. It's older than the mills, older than Jack Kerouac. It's older than Paul Tsongas. It's at least 321 years old.

Q: Why does the tree matter so much to you, personally?

A: I just want people to realize that the tree is very, very meaningful to everyone in the neighborhood, not only because of its historical value and its environmental value and its beauty as a natural object or because of its Native American sacredness. My deepest feeling about this project is that these people who live in this neighborhood, they love that tree. It's our tree. It's our beautiful, special little treasure. It's like something out of The Wizard of Oz. When you look at it, it's very anthropomorphic.

Q: Anthropomorphic how?

A: It's got that arm that looks like it's going to drop an apple right on the Yellow Brick Road. I have taken thousands of pictures of this tree, and I've looked at it from all angles and all sides and in all seasons and in all different lights, and I'm telling you, you can see faces in that tree.

Q: What's your ultimate goal with this tree?

A: It's important that the tree go back to a natural state, keeping the weeds at bay, but also not allowing people to be walking around there weed-whacking the way they have been. Basically, we've worked really hard to gather support from the neighborhood and get the community to recognize the importance.

The plaque, built by Adrian Luz of Luz Granite, that sits beneath the Pow-Wow Oak in Lowell. Sun/Bob Whitaker

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